


Solivagant

by tricksterity



Series: Wildering [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: HP: EWE, Harry is not going to be an auror, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, soft!harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-03-10
Packaged: 2019-03-29 10:06:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13924878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tricksterity/pseuds/tricksterity
Summary: “Why are you looking at me like that?” Theo whispered into the warm space between them.“Just thinking…” Harry murmured, thumb on Theo’s bottom lip. Theo’s tongue peeked out to wet his lips and caught briefly on Harry’s thumbprint. “We spent two years being a secret, and we spent all summer in Grimmauld Place, and now we’re here. I can kiss you in front of everyone and show them just how much I love you. I can’t believe I get to finally do that.”aka another Eighth Year fic that goes a little differently than expected.





	Solivagant

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lifeofben3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lifeofben3/gifts).



> Solivagant (adj.): Wandering alone. A solitary adventurer who travels or wanders the globe.

* * *

 

It had been a half-hour long debate as to whether their group of eighth years were going to catch the train to Hogwarts and waste a day on it for the sheer nostalgia, or whether they were going to be useful during the day and apparate into Hogsmeade later that night and take the short fifteen-minute walk up to the castle.

 

In the end, Harry and Hermione had won the argument and laughed as their significant others grumbled in their half-asleep states when they arrived at King’s Cross on the first of September. Everyone decided to try and squeeze into the same compartment, so Theo, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Luna, Neville and Ginny had to make some rather interesting arrangements to be able to fit.

 

By interesting arrangements, it meant that Luna sat on Ginny’s lap and Harry on Theo’s, and Ron tried to not look jealous that Hermione didn’t offer to sit on his. If she had, though, he wouldn’t have been able to see past her hair. The compromise was that she sat at the end of the seat, back against the wall and her legs curled up atop his.

 

“I can’t believe you convinced me to go back to school,” Ron sighed to Hermione, who rolled her eyes at him.

 

“Like I would date someone who hadn’t finished their education, Ronald,” she retorted back, but the soft way in which she said it let them all know it was a lie. Theo laughed and tightened his hold around Harry’s waist, and Harry leaned back into the comforting stability of his boyfriend.

 

It seemed surreal that they were going back to Hogwarts. Harry didn’t think it would ever happen again, considering that the past year had been filled with being a fugitive on the run, betrayal from all sides, a hell of a lot of dark magic and suffering in every way possible. They’d all fought, gained scars, nearly died (or _actually_ died in Harry’s case), and had been prepared to go through even more than that.

 

And now here they were – just a bunch of seventeen and eighteen-year-old kids going back to school, laughing with each other, the biggest problem they had being exams in the future and studying.

 

No more dark lords, no more fighting for survival, no more pain and agony and despair.

 

They’d _made_ it.

 

“I kind of forgot what happiness looked like,” he whispered to Theo, who smiled into his neck and pressed to the exposed skin there, Harry having tied his long hair up into a bun. He wasn’t surprised at how fast it grew, considering Aunt Petunia’s constant annoyance at it, but it’d never been so long that it touched his shoulders before. Harry quite liked it.

 

The day was spent in a haze of laughter and nostalgia, looking out at the familiar rolling hills and valleys of Scotland as the train passed through, knowing that it was potentially the last time any of them would see it. Their friends and acquaintances stopped by their cabin to chat, though any unfamiliar faces were kindly turned away, considering they were most likely ‘fans’, and they were just a bunch of teenagers who couldn’t be bothered to deal with kids reminding them of what they’d lost.

 

Hagrid greeted them at the Hogsmeade station as he always had, and Harry couldn’t help but run past all the nervous first years to hug the man, who laughed and squeezed back so tight Harry thought that he’d suffocate for a second.

 

“Glad to see yer back, Harry,” Hagrid grinned, surreptitiously wiping the tears away from his eyes. Harry smiled back at the man.

 

“Why wouldn’t I come back?” he asked. A few of the first-years watched interestedly as Hagrid made Harry promise to visit him for tea at the first available opportunity. In the past Harry had sometimes gone just to make Hagrid happy even though he hadn’t really wanted to. But after hearing Hagrid’s heart-wrenching, despairing sobs and the way he’d clenched his hands around Harry’s body so tightly like he didn’t want to let go but simultaneously so gently like Harry was a fragile thing he could break so easily… Harry would spend every single second with the man who was more of a father to him than anyone else had been.

 

“I’ll bring my boyfriend too,” Harry promised with a cheeky grin. When Hagrid opened his mouth to ask, brows furrowed in excited confusion, Harry winked and reminded him that he had a job to do, and then flounced back towards the other eighth years before the older man could get another word in.

 

His group of friends were all standing around the walkway to the carriages, and Theo didn’t hesitate in putting an arm around Harry’s waist when he approached. Flushed with pride, Harry slung his arm over his boyfriend’s shoulders and their motley group headed over to the carriages.

 

It was sobering when most of the kids there could see the thestrals. The younger ones couldn’t, considering they’d all been evacuated out of Hogwarts in time, but it was obvious with how many people just stopped and stared at the skeletal horses, knowing immediately why they were able to see them. Wishing for a time when Harry and Luna were the only ones who could see them, they all piled into a carriage.

 

Theo tugged on Harry’s waist gently, and in return Harry let his head rest gently on his boyfriend’s shoulder, closing his eyes and trying to ignore how the gentle rocking of the carriages being pulled over uneven ground made him feel a little sick. Surely Hermione would know a spell for motion sickness, right?

 

It was dark by the time the carriages pulled up in front of the school gates, and they could see the lanterns on the first years’ boats just curving around the side of the Black Lake. By the time the eleven-year-olds arrived, everyone else would be settled in and ready to eat and go to bed. The castle itself looked mostly undamaged and unchanged, save for the glittering statue reflecting the moonlight in the front courtyard. It was impossible to miss considering that everyone had to walk past it to get into the main doors, and it was another sobering reminder of what had happened at the very place they stood four months previously.

 

A huge block of marble at least two metres square sat as the base of the statue, golden plaques on each side engraved with the names of all the casualties from within the war, students and their families alike. Ron stepped forward and brushed his hand over _Fred Weasley_ with watering eyes. Atop the marble were three golden figures – a tall wizard, a female student in Hogwarts robes and a house-elf wearing the crest-stamped teatowel robe that all the Hogwarts elves wore. The three of them faced back-to-back, wands out and ready (minus the house-elf), and with their free hands held each other. The faces of the wizard and student were covered by the hood of their robes, anonymous and representing each and every person who died.

 

Atop them, with tail feathers draped across the wizard’s shoulders, rose a phoenix in mid-flight.

 

Harry stepped forward, away from his friends and fellow students, and placed a hand on the cold marble, staring at the names of all those who had died the night he had, and those who were casualties before.

 

_Sirius Black._

_Alastor Moody._

_Remus Lupin._

_Nymphadora Tonks._

_Severus Snape._

_Albus Dumbledore._

_Colin Creevey._

_Fred Weasley._

_Lavender Brown._

 

He swallowed thickly and traced the engraved letters, wishing that his sacrifice had been enough to keep these people alive, but he knew that it was not his fault that these people had died. His friends and family had told him this enough – these people had chosen to fight, and died bravely, for the freedom of them all. Not one of them had jumped in front of a wand blast for him, and had made their choices knowing the full consequences of what could happen.

 

It still didn’t make seeing their names like this, etched into stone, any easier.

 

Ignoring the fact that every single person within the vacinity was staring in his direction, watching the Boy Who Lived mourn all those who fought alongside him, he stepped back and wrapped his hand around Theo’s wrist, and led his group of friends solemnly into the Great Hall. The head table was already full, McGonagall smiling in their direction as they entered, and the house tables had been elongated slightly to make up for the increase of eighth-year students.

 

“Off you go,” Theo murmured while the volume in the Great Hall increased as more students filed in. His voice was still audible to Harry, though, who felt almost in tune with his boyfriend, running on the same wavelength and universal vibration after spending so long together. “I’ll be fine at the Slytherin table. If any of us should be nervous about letting the other out of their sight, it should be me.”

 

Harry rolled his eyes a little at his boyfriend’s teasing jab but took his words to heart, placing a kiss onto Theo’s soft cheek before allowing Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Neville to drag him across the room to the Gryffindor table.

 

Professor Sinistra emerged from one of the side-doors and placed a stool and the Sorting Hat before the professors’ table, and within ten minutes Hagrid was leading the first-years in, then took a seat at the very edge of the professor’s table with a wave over in their direction.

 

Harry couldn’t quite suppress a smile at the nervous expressions and twitching of the first years, and leaned over to Ron and Hermione.

 

“Remember when we all thought we’d have to fight a troll to get sorted?” he whispered, and the two of them laughed.

 

“You two thought that,” Hermione retorted imperiously. “I knew better because I’d actually read up on Hogwarts. It didn’t matter in the end, because we ended up fighting a troll anyway, didn’t we?”

 

“Ah, simpler times,” Ron chuckled quietly. “Remember when the most worrisome thing was _Wingardium Leviosa_?” Hermione shushed him while simultaneously huffing that he _still_ pronounced it incorrectly, and Sinistra rolled out the parchment and began to call forth the first-years.

 

It wasn’t surprising that the Slytherin table visibly had the least amount of students, but they were all pleasantly surprised at how many of the first years were sorted into the house. Harry had been worried that after the war even more aspertions would be cast upon the house and his boyfriend, simply because of the number of Death Eater families within, but not one first-year’s face dropped when they were sorted into it.

 

Each table stomped and cheered and clapped as per usual when new students were placed into their care, and by the end of the sorting Gryffindor had over ten new students to welcome. Harry caught Theo’s eye across the hall and winked.

 

“Welcome students, old and new,” McGonagall greeted, standing up to give the beginning-of-year speech. “For some of you this is the last year in which you will live within these walls of ours, and for others this is your new home. No matter which it is, or if you fall somewhere in the middle, I hope that this year will be as uneventful as possible.”

 

A few students laughed at that.

 

“As you are all aware, these halls have experienced loss, tragedy and destruction within the past months. Some areas of the school are still out-of-bounds as the damage has still not been completely fixed. We ask you not to tamper with any mourning wreaths placed about the school grounds, and invite you to leave offerings if doing so will make you feel at ease.”

 

The laughter and optimistic mood within the room cooled down somewhat at the reminder.

 

“Nevertheless, Hogwarts has always strived to be a safe place of education, asylum and family,” she continued. “Your houses, as well as students outside of them, are your family while you are here. Forgiveness, compassion and remorse fill these halls and will do so for years to come. I ask that we do our best to remain banded together now in peace times, and look forward to the future.”

 

She raised her goblet. “To the fallen, and to the survivors.”

 

The other students and teachers within the halls raised their goblets and toasted, intoning the same vow in a low echo throughout the room, and everyone took a silent sip of their drinks. Harry made eye contact with his boyfriend across the hall at that, thinking of the thick, shining scars that stretched up his back and along his arms; thought of his own scars that he’d gotten in the last few years; thought of all his friends who hadn’t escaped without at least one of their own, and was filled with a sense of pride.

 

_Survivors._

 

They had lost so much, but they’d come out the other side. Maybe not entirely unscathed, and definitely not whole, but they had made it.

 

It was more than Harry had honestly ever expected.

 

McGonagall continued to explain the usual school rules to the new first-years, as well as announcing the prefects for each of the year levels. The eighth years were to govern themselves in a way, as they didn’t have prefects, and were trusted that they knew the rules well enough by now to ‘keep out of trouble’.

 

She looked directly at Harry, Ron and Hermione at that last sentence, and they all sheepishly shrugged at her.

 

They’d also repurposed one of the mostly unused wings of the school to act as the eighth year dorms, considering that it would be too much trouble go to through and add more beds and rooms into the house dormitories. Not that any of them minded as considering that after what they’d all been through, house rivalries were the lowest on their priority lists. Even spotting Malfoy’s white-blonde hair across the hall was a surprise but didn’t bring up any particularly strong feelings. They were all over something as stupid as school rivalries.

 

Dinner was amazing. Harry and Theo had only eaten over at the Burrow a few times during the break and so most of the time had to end up cooking themselves, and they weren’t all that great at it. Theo was much better with some simpler pasta or stirfry recipes, and Harry could do some traditional English dinners that he’d cooked for the Dursleys, but that was really about it. He felt so full he could burst afterwards, and the beginning-of-year feast always gave him flashbacks to his first night at Hogwarts when he’d never seen so much food in one place and had eaten so much he’d ended up throwing it all up in the middle of the night because his malnourished body couldn’t handle it.

 

Good times.

 

“I can feel you being cynical from here, Harry,” Hermione piped up, picking up a napkin to wordlessly begin piling small lemon tarts into it. When she was done she wrapped it all up neatly and passed it over to Harry with a knowing smile.

 

“Come on, we should get to the dorms and unpack.”

 

With that she got up and held a hand out to Ron, who was staring up at her with near-literal hearts in his eyes.

 

“I love you,” he breathed, and Hermione laughed bashfully and pressed a kiss to his forehead as she returned the sentiment. The eighth years all got up from their various places around the Great Hall and swanned off to their new dorms, and Harry met up with Theo at the door to sling an arm around his boyfriend’s waist, pressing a kiss to Theo’s temple in the doorway.

 

“Is that okay?” he asked, knowing that the two of them were in full view of everyone in the Great Hall. Theo had said he was fine with coming out as a couple to the rest of the student populous, but Harry wasn’t entirely sure what forms of PDA he was comfortable with.

 

Theo just smiled and tightened his grip around Harry’s shoulders. “Fine,” he replied.

 

All of them knew the castle like the backs of their hands at this point, including all the weird corridors and stairwells that changed depending on the time of day, position of the stars in the sky and the weather outside. The abandoned wing where the eighth year dorms had been built wasn’t frequented often, but they’d all done an extensive amount of nighttime walking at this point (really, the school should have more than twenty-four prefects if they wanted to make sure the older students weren’t wandering around past curfew), and so they knew where to go.

 

The knight standing innocuously in the hallway was definitely a new addition, and they all congregated about him with curiosity.

 

“Do you think there’s a password?” Seamus asked. “Maybe we should’ve waited for McGonagall to tell us or something.”

 

“Don’t be daft, Finnigan,” Malfoy drawled from the back of the group. “She would have stopped us before we all left if that were necessary. Perhaps if you just ask nicely?”

 

They all rolled their eyes at Malfoy’s attitude, and Theo smothered a snort into Harry’s neck. There was no real heat behind Malfoy’s words, though, and it was clear that the Slytherin was just trying to keep some semblance of his former pride in front of the mixed group of teenagers that he’d mostly been against only a few months ago. Not by choice, however.

 

“So… is there a password?” Dean asked the knight, obviously feeling a little stupid. They all jumped a little when the knight simply moved aside, bowing and revealing a cleverly-hidden door in the brick wall behind him. “You’re just going to let us in?”

 

The knight nodded, and with a shrug their group of thirty-something eighth years entered their new common room. It was decked out mostly in a calming lilac colour, with tables and comfy chairs dotted about and a warm fireplace crackling away. Windows took up half the wall with a beautiful view over the school grounds, and the stairs carefully tucked away obviously showed where the dorms were. Upon inspection their bedrooms were all empty and devoid of any specific house colours, and their luggage was all piled in the common area at the top of the stairs.

 

“There’s five beds to a room,” Ron yelled, poking his head into one of the rooms. “Pretty familiar. I guess we’re all able to choose who we bunk with?”

 

Harry raised an eyebrow at his boyfriend in question.

 

“Are you all going to yell at me if Theo and I room together?” he asked in his friends’ direction. Ron scrunched up his face and Hermione laughed.

 

“As long as you two keep it down, we don’t mind,” she said, and Theo snorted.

 

“Back at you two,” he said pointedly. Ron’s face flushed an angry red and the other Gryffindors laughed at him. Malfoy and the other Slytherins who’d returned rolled their eyes and grabbed their luggage, heading to a room at the end of the corridor.

 

“Just because they’re single,” Dean muttered under his breath, slinging an arm around Seamus’ shoulder. Blaise, who was still in earshot, stuck up a specific finger in their direction.

 

“Speak for yourself,” he retorted. The Slytherins disappeared into one of the bedrooms, and the remaining students all looked around at each other in confusion.

 

“Who’s he dating?” Hannah Abbott finally piped up. “I mean… it can’t be Parkinson or Bulstrode, right? And Goyle’s not here, and it’s certainly not Malfoy or Greengrass.”

 

Theo raised his hand. “I just want to say, it’s definitely not me.”

 

“Of course it isn’t, Theo,” sighed Susan. “We all know that you can barely take your eyes off Potter for longer than ten seconds.” Harry spluttered when the rest of them laughed.

 

“How come he’s Theo and I’m still _Potter_?”

 

“Because while you were off galivating and saving the Wizarding World, Theo was actually here being helpful,” Michael Corner joked.

 

“Ah, yes,” Harry drawled in a very Malfoy-esque fashion. “Defeating Lord Voldemort was nothing compared to failing to steal a sword from Professor Snappy.” At his words, Ron burst out into laughter so hard he was crouching on the ground wheezing and crying, wiping away tears and breathing out _Professor Snappy_ whenever he could actually breathe.

 

“He was such a brave and kind man,” Neville said solemly, placing a hand over his heart. “Rest in peace, Professor Snappy. We will never forget your kind words, deeds and actions.”

 

“And the fact that you wanted to bone my Mum makes up for the fact that you bullied us all relentlessly for seven years,” Harry ended, setting Theo and the others off into hysterics. It seemed to break the ice a little in the unfamiliar situation they’d found themselves in, and everyone naturally broke off into groups and began moving their stuff into different dorm rooms. Harry and Theo ended up rooming with Ron, Hermione and Neville, and a few of the other students mixed up their houses as well. Padma and Parvati were stoked to be able to stay in the same room together, and Dean and Seamus were joined at the hip as per usual.

 

Despite having separate beds, by the time they were all unpacked and settled, Harry climbed into Theo’s and wrapped his limbs around his boyfriend like he was the Giant Squid. Lying on a soft bed with a warm body next to him, Harry tipped his head back slightly on his pillow to look at Theo. The drapes around the bed were drawn, leaving only the softest of warm light filtering through the curtains.

 

Harry raised a hand and traced his fingertips from his boyfriend’s dark curls down his sharp cheekbone, across his nose and then over his thick bottom lip. Theo’s eyes glinted in the minimal light, and Harry’s breath caught at how lucky he was. To have someone like Theo by his side, someone as gorgeous and thoughtful as his boyfriend, who saw beauty in everything – including Harry.

 

Harry’d never much liked himself, considering that living with the Dursleys hadn’t exactly been a conducive environment to developing any sort of self-esteem, and the only thing he’d liked about himself as a child ended up being a souvenir from the man who’d tried to murder him.

 

And yet here was perfect Theo Nott – scars and all – looking at Harry like he hung the stars and the moon, and he was sure that expression was reflected on his own face as well.

 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Theo whispered into the warm space between them.

 

“Just thinking…” Harry murmured, thumb on Theo’s bottom lip. Theo’s tongue peeked out to wet his lips and caught briefly on Harry’s thumbprint. “We spent two years being a secret, and we spent all summer in Grimmauld Place, and now we’re here. I can kiss you in front of everyone and show them just how much I love you. I can’t believe I get to finally do that.”

 

Theo laughed and leaned in until they shared the same pillow and his breath skated over Harry’s skin.

 

“That’s gay,” he deadpanned. Harry snorted and yanked Theo’s hair a little in retribution.

 

“Shut up, I’m trying to show emotion, arsehole,” Harry shot back. “You know that’s difficult for me.”

 

“Oh yes, terribly,” Theo drawled with a voice thick with Slytherin sarcasm as he leaned in to capture Harry’s lips in a kiss. And, well, he did have a point. Harry might be terrible with words quite a lot of the time but this – pouring his love and devotion and gratitude for his boyfriend into a kiss that ended with them gripping to each other tightly and panting for breath… he was quite good at that.

 

* * *

 

The morning rolled around far too quickly for Harry’s liking, and all too soon they were all stumbling out of the eighth year dorms with their robes half done up and looking like messes on their trek down to the Great Hall. Even Hermione was looking a little under the weather even though she was usually the most perky on the first day back of the year. She’d tied her hair into a huge bun at the back of her head to keep it out of the way as she devoured porridge like she hadn’t eaten in five years.

 

Harry chewed on some buttered toast for a few minutes and sipped away at his coffee until he could function well enough to actually be human, while Ron could eat an entire breakfast meal in his sleep without dropping a single baked bean. The owls swooped in and delivered their usual mail, and Harry scanned his eyes over Hermione’s copy of the _Daily Prophet_ just to make sure that Rita Skeeter hadn’t put out yet another inane article about him.

 

She hadn’t, thankfully, though he could only imagine what she’d get up to during the coming months. He kind of missed the days where she’d write articles about how he was a player or insane, because the mess of hero-worship articles that bordered on intense invasion of privacy that’d come out since he’d killed Voldemort were truly sickening.

 

McGonagall had the timetables passed around, and Harry looked down at his with slight trepidation.

 

He still hadn’t entirely decided on what he’d wanted to do after eighth year, even though everyone else seemed set on their plans. He hadn’t really had hobbies considering his life for the last seven years had been ‘kill Voldemort’ and not much else, so he’d taken a wide range of subjects he was able to enroll in.

 

The eighth year classes were mixed in with the seventh year classes, meaning that a few of their subjects he’d have with Ginny and Luna. Luna had of course taken Care of Magical Creatures, and Harry had been allowed to re-enroll in it, and so that was bound to be interesting. He’d debated taking Potions, but since both Hermione and Theo were taking it and they were both good, he figured that he could study with them and had it second period.

 

Defence was a given, Transfiguration and Charms were always useful, and Harry unfortunately needed to take Divination. He’d applied for Magical Theory in it’s place, but apparently enough students hadn’t wanted to take it to justify having a class for it, and he resigned himself to once again bullshitting the entire year of work. He’d dropped Herbology, as it wasn’t really necessary to any of the professions he’d vaguely been looking into.

 

Hopefully, at the very least, Trelawney would stop predicting his certain death.

 

His first class with theoretical Care of Magical Creatures, so he teamed up with Ginny, Luna and Ron as they entered their classroom with a gaggle of other seventh and eighth years. They took their seats and their old, battered copies of _Fantastic Beasts and Where To Find Them_ , along with the revised and updated 70th anniversary edition that’d come out over the summer break. Luna gushed excitedly over the new foreword from Newt Scamander and his wife Tina, having already read the book cover-to-cover.

 

“Unfortunately they haven’t included Nargles or anything, but you know he is quite old,” Luna informed them all. “It’s alright if he’s missed them. I plan to write my own book, you know Harry, so maybe students will be using my textbook in a few years!”

 

And Harry had seen and experienced much stranger things than Nargles in his life, so he whole-heartedly supported Luna on her journey.

 

Hagrid lumbered into the classroom five minutes after they all did, and he was larger than the blackboard he stood in front of to write up some notes, the stick of chalk in his hand looking hilariously small. He asked them to call out the names of new creatures that had been featured in the revised edition, and what they knew about them.

 

Ginny leaned over and murmured that she was surprised Harry hadn’t been listed as a fantastic beast after his miraculous resurrection, and he shoved her so hard she nearly fell off her chair.

 

Their next class was Potions, where Harry teamed up at a table with Theo and Hermione, and their last spot was filled by Padma Patil. Slughorn smiled proudly over at Harry as he explained the years’ syllabus, and Harry’s resulting smile in return was more of a grimace at the guilt that overcame him. Theo snorted and jabbed him in the side, and Hermione pursed her lips and shook her head in exasperation.

 

And so the rest of their first day back at Hogwarts continued with professors lining out the topics that they’d be studying and revising for the year, exam dates and career meetings. The thought of having to speak with McGonagall and confess to her that he had absolutely no idea what he wanted to do in life was daunting.

 

He worried for nothing though a week later when he arrived at his meeting to find her already offering him tea and a biscuit.

 

“Let me guess, Potter, being an Auror is well off the table now, isn’t it?” she asked. Harry had blinked, then taken a biscuit without her prompting this time.

 

“You could say that,” Harry sighed, dipping it into his tea before biting it. “I think I’ve done enough fighting for a lifetime. If I didn’t think I’d go insane out of boredom I’d probably just retire completely after school and travel or something.” It wasn’t like he didn’t have the money to do that, considering he’d inherited the Black estate after the deaths of Sirius and Bellatrix, with Andromeda and Narcissa Malfoy refusing to take it. That combined with the Potter fortune ensured that Harry would never want for money again, which was a concept he still yet had to wrap his head around.

 

McGonagall shrugged in a way that was remarkably out of character, and stirred her tea.

 

“I don’t think that’s such a bad idea, Potter,” she replied to Harry’s complete shock. “You’ve been spending your years in school trying to survive, rather than exploring your own interests and hobbies. I wouldn’t blame you for wanting to do some travel and discover who you are outside of the Chosen One.”

 

Blinking in disbelief, Harry’s biscuit he’d been holding in his tea went too soft and broke, landing at the bottom of the cup with an inaudible noise. McGonagall took her glasses off and looked at Harry with such a warm, grandmotherly expression that he kind of wanted to cry. She reached over and grasped one of his hands in her soft, wrinkled fingers.

 

“You have been through too much for a boy your age,” McGonagall said softly. “You’ve done what you needed to. Now you can do what you _want_ to. Even if that means abandoning all of your responsibilities for a while and taking Nott on a European rail adventure. You don’t even have to stop at Europe, you know. You could go to Asia. Africa. The Americas. The magical and Muggle communities worldwide are absolutely stunning. I’m still blown away by the scope of MACUSA and the North African Assembly.”

 

Harry had been in the wizarding world for coming on eight years at this point, and it still blew him away when he realised the massive scope of it all. Other wizarding communities were barely mentioned in their classes, and he thought back to the few times that Hermione had mentioned Empress Zhou’s magical reforms in the Chinese Republic as her inspiration for wanting to go into wizarding politics or journalism.

 

He could go to the European mainland and take a train through every single country if he wanted, exploring the various wizarding cultures, following the Silk Road across Russia, the Middle East and into Asia. He could spend months – years even – just getting to know himself, the _world_ , and…

 

Would Theo come with him?

 

Theo certainly hadn’t expressed any burning desires to follow a career within the UK, and was almost as aimless as Harry was when it came to his future. Ideally he wanted to make it as an artist, either within the wizarding or Muggle community, but maintained that it wasn’t a ‘realistic’ goal and that he should continue on with the path his father had been steering him on before the whole Voldemort mess, which was a Ministry job.

 

But even with the Potter inheritance alone, Harry had enough for the two of them to travel comfortably for… however long they wanted to.

 

Did he have any right to do that though? Any right at all to abandon everything he’d fought to protect and the people who’d died for him to do something as senseless as _traveling_? Wasn’t that selfish?

 

“None of that, Mr Potter,” McGonagall suddenly said firmly, tapping him on the back of his hand. “I can see the guilt in your eyes. If anyone in this world deserves to take some time off, it is you. You’ve given more than any of us, and don’t let anyone – including yourself – say otherwise.”

 

“I…” Harry murmured, but the storm in his mind was whirling too severely for any sentences to form properly before they were knocked back into the wind.

 

“Don’t worry about it,” McGonagall said, squeezing his hand and then letting go. “Just enjoy your tea. Another biscuit?”

 

Harry looked down at the sad portion that remained in his hand, and placed it down on the saucer.

 

“Yes please,” he said, reaching over to the tin.

 

“Now about Mr Nott…” McGonagall mused in a way that made Harry’s face go bright red. “Oh, don’t be silly, I’m glad to see that you finally have someone. Especially someone as moral and brave as that boy.”

 

He sunk down into his chair at McGonagall’s words, but couldn’t help the tug of the corners of his lips at her approval of his boyfriend.

 

* * *

 

It was the third day of the first week back that Harry got cornered by Madam Pomfrey on his way past the hospital wing to the eighth year dormitories. It wasn’t so much being cornered as turning on his heel at his name being called to see Madam Pomfrey power-walking in his direction with a rattling wooden crate in her arms, and then having it unceremoniously dumped into his grasp.

 

“Uh…” he managed to get out, looking down at the multiple unlabeled jars clinking against each other with each breath he took. “Thank you?”

 

Madam Pomfrey rolled her eyes and picked one out so he could see the lilac coloured cream-like substance that filled each jar almost to the brim.

 

“This is dittany cream, made by the fifth year Potions classes,” she explained. “Not as effective as pure essence of dittany, but applying it daily on physical and curse scars will help to reduce the swelling and discolouration. Obviously it won’t do anything about the one on your forehead, but any other scarring it should help.”

 

Harry blinked at her for a few moments.

 

“Pass it around to the seventh and eighth year students,” Pomfrey ordered, placing her hands on her hips. “I saw more than my fair share of scars in May and this will help the lot of you. I trust you to get that to everyone safely.” With a perfunctory pat on the shoulder, she whirled around and marched back to the hospital wing like nothing had happened, leaving Harry confused and grateful in the middle of an empty hallway.

 

Hermione was already reading in the eighth year common room by the time he struggled through the door with the help of the guarding knight, and without more than a second to glance at the jars she jumped up excitedly and helped Harry put them on the main study table.

 

“Dittany cream! Did you get this from Pomfrey? She really does think of everything, that woman,” Hermione gushed, unpacking several of the jars from the box. “Most of us here have got scars, so I’d say that maybe we could use half and the seventh years could have the other half.” She counted the jars left in the box and frowned. “There’s only eleven left, so it won’t be an even distribution.”

 

“Slytherin won’t need as many,” piped up Malfoy from the far corner. Harry hadn’t even realised he was there, considering that for the last seven years his bleach-blonde hair had been an immediate beacon of hatred and scorn. “Two for them, three for the others.”

 

Neither of them felt comfortable disagreeing with Malfoy, so Hermione just silently picked up the box and exited the common room, probably to head straight to Gryffindor. Harry picked up a jar, and considering that Malfoy was the only other person in the common room, went straight up to his bedroom to avoid the awkwardness that was sure to come of that. He left the dittany cream on his side table and relaxed into the bed with his Care of Magical Creatures textbook to finish the readings that Hagrid had assigned them.

 

The section on dragons had been updated with a new species discovered in New Zealand – the Antipodean Opaleye. Previously thought to have gone into hiding or extinct, one had recently been spotted within the Marlborough Sound region. Instead of living in crevices and the peaks of high mountains, this species preferred low, cool valleys, hence why it had been previously unseen. The photo included was from a distance, showing what seemed to be nothing more than a sinuous shape flying across the cloud-spotted sky, white opal scales winking in the sunlight.

 

What Harry wouldn’t give to be able to see something like that in person. Before he knew it, he was crossing over to Hermione’s trunk and into her textbook section that was really more of a library with the undetectable extension charm placed on it, and was pulling out her various geography books.

 

New Zealand, Australia, the Pacific Islands… Harry poured through the photographs and information of the continent’s chapter and wondered what the magical communities would be like on the other side of the world, so far away from his home. Despite his initial awe at the magical world in England when he’d turned eleven and discovered it for the first time, it had become something entirely mundane to Harry now. He didn’t know when Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade and the Ministry had gone from being breathtaking locations to regular run-of-the-mill destinations, and it broke Harry’s heart a little to realise that in such a short space of time he’d become so desensitised to this amazing world that he really hadn’t spent all that much time in.

 

But other countries… not even just within Europe but Asia, Africa, the Americas, Australasia… the sense of wonder and curiosity filled Harry up again. He could imagine walking through the streets of Italy, the countryside of Japan, the desert communities of Morocco, the coastline of Chile, the mountains of New Zealand. He could imagine taking in the sights, the smells, and completely immersing himself in another culture where the magic and Muggle worlds would be such a far cry from his own. To discover magic he didn’t even know existed, to experience more of the world than he’d been able to while stuck in the UK trying not to get murdered by a crazed snake man obsessed with power and immortality.

 

He mulled the thoughts over, working out details of transport and accommodation in his head until Theo came back from his classes and flopped down on his bed with a groan. Smiling at his boyfriend, Harry crossed the small space between their beds and helped Theo get his robes and shirt off to expose his bare back.

 

Ghosting his fingertips across Theo’s pale skin, enjoying the difference in colour between his own and his boyfriend’s, Harry reached over for the dittany cream and scooped a bit out. It smelled faintly of lavender and sandalwood, and Theo moaned a little when Harry warmed it between his fingers and began to gently rub it across Theo’s back and the thick, roping scars that his father had left him. Hermione and Ron came into the room about halfway and ignored the two of them, and by the time that Harry was done the other couple had left for supper and Theo was mostly asleep.

 

Harry leaned down, pressed a kiss to the back of Theo’s neck, and whispered _hey_ into the skin there. Theo mumbled something back in his half-asleep state.

 

“I’ve got a question for you,” Harry asked, now idly drawing patterns across Theo’s back. “Have you ever left the UK?”

 

It was a few seconds before Theo responded. “…Been to France once,” was his whole answer.

 

“Did you like it there?” Harry inquired, fingertips now following the small hills and valleys that made up Theo’s spine, from the base of his neck to the small of his back, in between the two gorgeous dimples that Harry loved.

 

“Didn’t mind it,” Theo mumbled. “Didn’t stay long though.”

 

Spreading his palms on Theo’s back, Harry dragged the flat of them up Theo’s back until he could hook them over his shoulders, and manoeuvred himself until he was resting on Theo like a koala, legs either side of his boyfriend’s hips, head on the same pillow as Theo and nose brushing against the back of Theo’s head.

 

“Would you like to go again?” Harry asked. Theo hummed in a thoughtful manner, and then turned so he and Harry were nose-to-nose and a little bit cross-eyed.

 

“Why are you asking?”

 

“Well… I’ve never left the UK. Haven’t even been to Ireland or Wales,” Harry began. “I don’t know what I want to do once I leave Hogwarts, and you don’t particularly want to go into the Ministry. McGonagall suggested that we could, I don’t know… go traveling for a bit.”

 

He shrugged, framing it as though it were just an idle suggestion, but after two years, a war, and three months of solitude his boyfriend knew him far better than that.

 

“Where would we go?” Theo asked. Harry shifted so he could wiggle his hands around Theo’s waist, clinging to his boyfriend’s back with all limbs and snuggled into his neck.

 

“Where wouldn’t we go?” Harry replied. “Neither of us is short of money with three pureblood inheritances between us, and we’re not short on time either. We could start in Europe, take a train through all the major cities, go across Asia, jump to Canada and North America, go down to the end of Chile, cross the Pacific to New Zealand and Australia, then go up through Southern Asia, the Middle East and Africa. We could… we could spend a lifetime just traveling, the two of us, exploring everything there is to see. Doing whatever we wanted.”

 

“No parents or Dark Lords to dictate our lives,” murmured Theo into Harry’s hair. “Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, the Chosen One, and best-selling travel writer. _A Guide to Earth’s Magical Communities, Volume One_ – I can see it now. Six volumes for six continents, unless there’s a settlement of people in Antarctica, I guess.”

 

“Polar bear fur wand cores?” Harry laughed.

 

“They live in the North Pole, dumbass,” Theo retorted. “Penguins are in the South Pole.”

 

Harry jabbed his boyfriend in the ribs as he shifted to get more comfortable, enjoying the comfortable plush cushion that was Theo’s arse.

 

“Sorry I don’t know more about the bloody poles of the Earth, Theodore, I was too busy trying not to _die_ for the majority of my schooling years you absolute bellend,” was Harry’s fantastic response. His boyfriend snorted and giggled stupidly into the bedcovers, which set Harry off as well.

 

Neville came into the room, took one look at them, turned one-hundred-eighty degrees and walked straight back out again. It sent them into another fit of giggles, and by the time they got changed into their pajamas and headed down to the Great Hall for supper (because all of the eighth years really did not care what they wore anymore) they were still snickering.

 

Instead of separating to go off to their house tables, Harry held onto Theo’s sleeve and made his boyfriend drag him over to the Slytherin table where they sat together and continued to talk about potential travel plans while filling up their plates.

 

Aware of but ignoring all the strange glances and outright stares they were getting, Harry linked arms with Theo and stuck his tongue out when his boyfriend grimaced at the amount of butter Harry was adding to his mashed potatoes.

 

They both had their little idiosyncracies, weird habits and more than their fair share of annoyances as they’d figured out in the last three months that they’d been living together, and by the end of the year they’d know even more of them. But each thing Harry found out about Theo, like how much he hated cinnamon (heathen) and his weird obsession with making sure there were no dishes left in the sink before they went to bed or the little flourish he’d do with his wand when using a summoning spell, just made Harry fall in love with him even more.

 

 _Even_ the things that Theo did that annoyed the fuck out of Harry like how he refused to admit he was a complete blanket hog or his tendency to zone out when Harry was trying to tell him something important and how he _never_ announced his presence when he joined Harry in the shower because it scared the shit out of him every time and Theo thought it was hilarious; even those things Harry could tolerate if it meant he got to pull Theo into his arms at any given time and press kisses to every inch of skin he could unveil.

 

He must’ve been looking at Theo with something approaching adoration in his eyes, because when his boyfriend turned to him to ask something he froze for a second and then blushed deeply, the red going all the way up his ears and down his neck.

 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he whispered, peering back down at his food. Instead of answering verbally, Harry simply smiled and leaned over, pressing a kiss to his cheek. A few of the Slytherins around them made various noises, but Harry tuned it out. Theo looked a little uncomfortable at the attention so Harry grabbed his hand under the table and squeezed once.

 

“You okay?” he asked, voice barely audible to himself thanks to the high volume in the hall.

 

“Fine,” Theo replied, squeezing back. “Just getting used to it is all. I know it’ll be fine.”

 

Reaching out, Harry speared a piece of sausage on his fork and held it out to Theo’s lips with expectant brows. Rolling his eyes, Theo obediently opened his mouth and took it between his teeth, chewing as sarcastically as was physically possible for a human being.

 

Later that week, after word had finally gotten around to Rita Skeeter that Harry Potter – The Chosen One, the Boy Who Lived etc. – was dating a Slytherin, well… suddenly she was back to her old ways of assuming that Harry must’ve been addled in the mind or something similar for even _thinking_ of dating someone who had a whole one thing in common with his parents’ murderer.

 

When he’d read the article (thankfully not front page) the day of it’s release, Harry had simply laughed and set the paper on fire with an errant flick of his wand, scaring a few of the younger years who still soaked up any and all drama like sponges and had been sending him worried looks on and off throughout the morning. Hermione tutted and doused the ashes with water from her goblet, and then strode purposefully out of the Great Hall.

 

Half a week later, a thoroughly researched and scathing exposé on Rita Skeeter was anonymously released to the _Daily Prophet_ and subsequently took up the entire front page, an addendum on the end adding that Rita was being taken to court due to being an illegal animagus to unlawfully acquire information. Nobody knew who’d written it, but Hermione had looked incredibly smug and unsurprised when she’d flicked open the _Prophet_ to read it.

 

The term passed quickly and wrapped up at the Christmas holidays with their follow-up career assessment just before they broke off for two weeks.

 

McGonagall was thrilled that Harry had taken her words to heart and explained that he and Theo would be getting as many NEWTs as possible, but their immediate plans post-Hogwarts were to begin traveling. The space between their two beds in the dorm was filled with travel books, a map of Europe and train routes and timetables that they’d acquired throughout the weeks, planning the first leg of their journey.

 

With a buoyant heart full of joy, Harry and Theo escaped to Grimmauld Place for their Christmas holiday, warm and happy while the snow fell around them.

 

They both somehow managed to get each other rings for Christmas, and though they didn’t go on the left hand, they were both a promise for the future.

 

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you Ben for keeping my bank account out of the negatives lmao! Potentially the last piece in this series.... 
> 
> If you liked this and are interested in me writing something for you, please hit up tricksterity.tumblr.com :)


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